


A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Afterlife

by agent85



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake Inhuman Customs, FitzSimmons Have No Chill, Fluff and Crack, LOTS of Crack Though, Not Even a Hint of Chill, Zero Chill Here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4237440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jemma emerges from the stone, the crew goes to Afterlife to find some answers. When they arrive, they discover that one misunderstanding might have drastic, but not necessarily unpleasant, consequences for FitzSimmons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Afterlife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [recoveringrabbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/recoveringrabbit/gifts).



> The following may/may not be inspired by the general cluelessness of FitzSimmons and an episode of _Full House_.

"Okay, you three," said Coulson as he adjusted his aviators, "the last time we were here, it didn't go so well."

Fitz, Simmons, and Skye somehow managed to roll their eyes in unison.

"Don't remind me," groaned Skye.

"Or me," Simmons added.

There was a tense silence as all eyes landed on Fitz, who folded his arms in offense.

"Don't look at me; I wasn't even here."

Coulson watched as Simmons and Skye shared a smile, though Simmons cheeks seemed to pink a little. It had been a while since he'd seen the three of them together, and he thought they looked especially picturesque with the scenery of Afterlife as a backdrop.

"So," the director continued, "I expect all of you to be on your best behavior. You will do everything your hosts ask of you, and you will treat Inhuman customs with the utmost respect. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," the three answered.

"And, uh, what about me?"

Coulson turned around to see Lincoln jogging out of the quinjet to stand next to Skye.

"Oh," said Coulson, "I forgot you were here."

* * *

"Isn't this fascinating?" Jemma gushed, craning her neck up to examine the buildings. "I should have read up on Chinese architecture on the way here. It's so beautiful!"

Skye gave the overhangs a glance before folding her arms in a huff. "Yeah, it's fascinating. But it's not like we're tourists."

"Of course not!" Simmons defended. "I didn't mean—"

"We're supposed to figure out why that space rock ate you up and spit you out," interjected Fitz, who regarded the Afterlife architecture with obvious distaste. Simmons responded with an eye roll.

"I know that, Fitz. What I don't know is why you insist on being such a grump about this!"

It was then that Fitz caught her eye with an intensity that melted her annoyance into butterflies.

"Yes, you do."

Really, Jemma thought, she had to get this blushing business under control. She couldn't go mooning over her best friend simply because he asked her out on a date which had to be indefinitely postponed due to the actions of a possibly-sentient, definitely extraterrestrial, geological object. But, of course, it was hard to maintain her calm when it was easy to see that Fitz's cheeks were just as red as hers. She was just about to lay a gentle hand on his arm and give him some assurance when Lincoln emerged from the double doors and gave a nod to Skye.

"Okay, they're ready for us!" she said, and all but pulled them inside the building. Simmons let out a gasp when she saw that the building was twice as beautiful within. The large room was decorated with intricate patterns in red and gold that culminated in what looked to be a series of links at the back of the room, where an old lady sat. When she caught a sidelong glance from Skye, Jemma curbed her excitement.

"Honestly," Fitz whispered, "I don't see why you're so happy about this."

She turned to him to find his eyes full of unspoken questions, and she gave him a reassuring smile.

"Oh, come on, Fitz! Think of all the dreadful things that could have happened to me, and didn't! I could have been trapped in there, or sent through some portal to another realm, or undergone physical and/or psychological changes." When she found she couldn't hold Fitz's piercing gaze, she ducked her head and cautiously gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I could have died, Fitz," she continued, her tone growing somber as she felt him squeeze back. "I'm just happy to be here." 

It was funny how she didn't seem to have the ability to let go of his hand, instead watching as her fingers twined through his of their own accord. She dared to glance up at his seeking eyes before banishing her gaze to the floor.

"Coulson needs me back at the quinjet," said Skye, holding a finger to her earpiece. "Are you guys going to be okay?"

"They'll be fine with me," assured Lincoln, giving Skye a wink and a nod.

"You'd think they wouldn't be so demonstrative," Simmons whispered to Fitz, giving his hand another squeeze.

"I know," Fitz whispered back, "we're on a very serious mission, and we don't need them to put their relationship on display, thank you very much." Fitz paused, then turned to her. "They are in a relationship, aren't they?"

Simmons responded with a cheerful shrug, very pleased with the warm grin she received in response.

"Okay," Lincoln called out, "are you ready to begin the ceremony?"

Simmons looked up at and, in the corner of her eye, saw Fitz doing the same.

"Ceremony?" Fitz's shot a wide-eyed glance at Simmons. "What ceremony?"

Lincoln gave a long-suffering sigh. "Okay, I guess Skye didn't tell you. The Inhumans have a lot of old traditions, some of which are related to the stone you found. Before our elders will speak to you about the stone, you will be asked to perform a simple ritual." He shrugged at them. "It's not a big deal."

Simmons raised an eyebrow. "And what is this ritual, exactly?"

"Well," explained Lincoln, "it requires two people, such as yourselves. The first part involves this table."

He indicated a long, oval table that appeared to be made out of stone, with several leather restraints.

"We're going to be strapped to the table!"

She was sure Fitz meant it as a question, but it came out as something of a shriek that she thought was actually quite tame, considering.

Lincoln stared at them for a moment in apparent confusion. "What?" He looked at the table, then back at them, until it clicked for him. "Oh, no! No, you're just going to be walking around the table. Seven times."

Simmons exchanged a glance with Fitz and shrugged. "We're just," she asked, "we're simply walking _around_ the table?"

Lincoln nodded. "Yup. Seven times."

"I think we can manage that," said Fitz, and she gave a squeeze of her hand in agreement.

"Good," said Lincoln. "And, as you walk, we're going to have Opal here do some chanting." He indicated the elderly woman seated behind him, who waved. 

"Chanting," repeated Simmons with, what she hoped, was a convincing smile, "how interesting."

"Right," Lincoln said, "it's all part of the ritual. So, just, you know, whenever you're ready."

Fitz turned to Simmons with a raised eyebrow.

"Shall we?"

Simmons felt lost in the way his blue eyes sparkled, suddenly overwhelmed with the knowledge that she was, indeed, standing hand in hand with her very favorite person, and found that she was nodding.

"Yes, I think we shall."

* * *

"Hey," called Skye when Lincoln ushered her back into the room, "hope I didn't miss anything."

"You missed everything!" Opal declared in shock. "It's all over."

Lincoln put a reassuring hand on Skye's shoulder. "Don't worry. I think FitzSimmons got everything they needed."

"Yes!" exclaimed Simmons. "The elders were quite informative. We can't wait to get back to the base and test out some new theories, right Fitz?" She waited for Fitz to nod in eager agreement. "And the safety procedures they explained!" She gave an affectionate glance to Opal. "So extensive! You see, the stone captures lost souls, those without a spiritual connection to another. So we'll have to be careful about who we let go near it. But Fitz and I should be fine."

Skye blinked a few times before cocking her head at them. "Fine? Why should you two be fine?"

"Because they're married," explained Opal.

At her words, Fitz, Simmons, and Skye turned to Opal.

" _Married_?"

* * *

Fitz had seen Coulson frown before, even scowl, but he'd seen nothing like this. The director paced the area in front of the quinjet with his hands clasped behind his back, looking like a dad who had to bail his teenage kids out of jail. Fitz was glad, at least, that the anger was directed at Lincoln, and that he and Jemma were seated on steps at a safe distance.

"Married? You _married_  my agents?"

Lincoln shot his hands up in confused surrender. "The elders will only reveal the secrets of the stone to a bonded couple! Besides, they're already married!" He looked from Coulson over to Skye, who put her head in her hands. "Aren't they? Somebody should have told me if they weren't married. They  _act_  like they're married."

The director stopped his pacing to give Lincoln a leveling gaze.

"You need to fix this."

" _NO!_ "

Fitz wondered why all eyes were suddenly on him before he realized that he was the one shouting.

"I mean, well, um—" 

"It's a safety precaution," Jemma said.

Fitz turned to her with his eyebrows approaching his hairline. "A safety precaution?" he choked.

He watched as a shy smile played on her lips. "Yes. The stone can't harm anyone who has a spiritual connection to someone outside of it. My marriage to Fitz," she explained, blushing at the words, "is necessary to ensure that neither of us come to any harm whilst we study it."

"Yeah," added Fitz, feeling a growing confidence. "It's for safety."

"But it didn't hurt you," Skye said, pointing a finger at Jemma.

"Yes, because they were already connected," said Lincoln, "but it still _tried_  to hurt her. Now, it won't even come close."

"So," Jemma said with a shrug, "we'll just have to stay married. At least until we're finished—"

"Or indefinitely, really—"

"For safety," Simmons repeated, and Fitz thought he saw a rather distinct twinkle in her eye that he found very encouraging.

Coulson pressed his lips into a fine line as he took in Fitz and Jemma, then Lincoln, and finally Skye. After a long moment, the director let out a sigh.

"Since FitzSimmons seems to be okay with this arrangement," he shot a glance over at the two, who nodded vigorously, "I'm going to let it slide this time." He took a few threatening steps forward until he could press a finger against Lincoln's chest. "But if you ever expect  _any_  of my agents to participate in  _any_  Inhuman ceremonies ever again, I am going to need everything explained beforehand,  _in writing_."

Lincoln gulped. "Y-yes sir."

It looked like Coulson was going to let Lincoln have it for a bit longer, but Fitz ignored them and turned to Jemma with clammy hands and a pounding heart.

"Jemma," he said, unable to breathe when she looked up at him with her warm, brown eyes, "you really didn't know, uh, what was happening when it . . . happened?"

She shook her head. "No, but now that I think of it, they did have us clasp hands while they tied a ribbon around them and blessed us. That should have been a clue."

"Yeah," said Fitz, nodding, "I mean, I didn't know either. It was all in a weird language." He wrung his hands. "But you really, um, you really don't mind? Being married to me?"

She was still watching him, probably studying him, and he was too afraid to ask what it was she saw. After a long moment, she said, "Of course not."

Fitz could do nothing but gape at her for a second, his brain buzzing to the point where he thought it might explode, and he eventually managed to stammer out a, "But, why?"

Jemma only smiled as she took hold of his hand and gently draped his arm around her shoulder. When she snuggled against him, Fitz was sure that nothing in the world had ever felt so right.

"You know why," she answered.

They sat there for a blissful moment, watching Coulson yell at Lincoln against a Chinese sunset. After a while, Jemma shifted to reach up and place a chaste kiss on his lips and pulled back to watch him grin from ear to ear. She smiled too, until her eyes widened and she let out a frightened, "Oh no!"

Fitz dared to cup her cheek in concern. "Jemma, what is it?"

"Nothing, it's just—our parents! They'll be livid!" She searched his eyes, and he couldn't help but let out a groan. As she settled back at his side, held her close until the answer became clear to him.

"Well, Jemma, there's only one thing to do."

"We'll have to go home to get married again," she sighed.

"Yes, right. And Coulson should give us leave, I mean, after all, we deserve—"

"A proper honeymoon."

He turned to see the elation in her eyes, finally feeling it himself, and he pulled her in for a proper kiss full of passion and promises. When they broke apart, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You know, I like this place."

She gave a hum of agreement as she pulled him close to kiss him once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, when I say that FitzSimmons are oblivious enough to get married without noticing, and then someone tells me that somebody should write that, this is the result. Be careful with your comments, kids. Some ideas are too dangerous to nurture.
> 
> (BTW, you should totally read [Murder By Mistake](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3963931) if you haven't yet. Actually, you should read it twice.)


End file.
